


Moving In

by toggledog



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Moving In Together, mention of canon molestation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toggledog/pseuds/toggledog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan are in love and moving in together. But things aren't going to be smooth sailing for the two. Morgan, in particular, has to work through some issues...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this entire series a while ago on livejournal. As I'm completing a Hotch/Reid fic, thought I'd give Morgan/Reid some loving too :).
> 
> Can be seen as a sequel to "Morgan's Eternal Day".

"Just a little to the left…no, no hold on, it’s not…"

Morgan grunted, regripped his sweat soaked hands along the corners of the heavy bookcase and stepped to the left.

"Ow! Derek, I just banged my foot." Jack smarted.

"I’m sorry guys, it’s only a little further." Spencer grinned. "I just, I really think it would be better if it was right up against the dresser. As in squashed right up against it."

"Do you want to put it down?" His boyfriend asked the man gripping the other end of the oak structure.

"Nah, we’re almost there." Jack’s moon face had started out magenta. Over the course of two hours it moved to fuschia to plum. His breath groaned out of his fat lips like an asphyxiating frog. Derek bit his bottom lip to stop from laughing out loud.

"I feel really bad guys…" Spencer said.

"But not bad enough to move it yourself, right?"

"Hey, you’re the one determined to prove your masculinity by offering to lug every heavy bit of furniture." Spencer grinned at Derek in a way that made him forget dragging the heavy, cumbersome object through the house, up a flight of stairs and across two rooms.

_That little son of a-_

"Alright. Ready Jack?" Morgan then added as an afterthought, "Your foot ok?"

Jack nodded. Both stepped to the side, grunting. 

"Ok, now back a little more-"

"Ow! My hand." Jack quickly snatched his hand away from where it had briefly been stuck between the dresser and the bookcase. This time Morgan couldn’t help it. He laughed out loud.

"You alright, man?"

"I’ll live."

"That’s… maybe a little to the right and back a bit more." Spencer frowned.

The older man rolled his eyes, gripped the edges of the shelves and scooted it back, and to the side, along the carpet.

"Perfect! Perfect?" Derek turned to his boyfriend for the final approval.

"Good enough, now let’s get some boxes."

"Hey guys, can we just…?" Jack sat down on the edge of the bed. "Give me a moment."

Spencer’s dark eyes flicked up to the time on the grandfather clock they’d placed in the bedroom merely an hour before.

"Maybe we could take a break. Get some lunch?"

Both weary men nodded.

"At least that’s all the heavy objects done." The young man offered. "That’s something."

"Lunch…" Jack put one hand down on the covers and lurched himself up to his feet. "So pizza’s good? Mama Jacks?"

"You’ve got a pizza store in the neighbourhood called Mama Jacks?" An amused look crept over Spencer’s face.

"Yep, and they do the best meatlovers." Derek pulled his wallet out of his jeans pocket, opened it and took out a twenty-dollar note. "On me, babe."

_He’ll get to know Mama Jacks. And that little store that sells all the crazy knick-knacks._

He felt his heart start to spike with excitement.  _Don’t forget that great second hand book store just across the road from Mama Jacks. Yes, Spencer’s going to love that one._

"Jack, do you mind doing the honours? A meatlovers for me and Spencer and whatever you want."

"Ah…sure." The large man took the note of him.

All three walked down the stairs (no longer my stairs, Morgan thought, an almost insane grin appearing on his face) to the front foyer. Jack stepped up to the coat rack and put on his coat, mittens and a scarf.

"Ok, I guess I’ll be back in twenty minutes." For a moment, the large man’s grey eyes flicked to Morgan’s dark irises. In those milliseconds, his friend conveyed, with good humour, his realisation that he was deliberately being bade to go away.

"See you soon." Derek all about slammed the door in his face.

"Well, I guess we-"

Spencer was cut off by Derek’s hungry mouth on his. The young man moaned, grabbed his lover around the waist and pulled their bodies together, tongues clashing.

  
"Let’s…" Morgan said, as both released, panting harshly. "Where do you want to christen first? I was thinking it’s cold outside so…" He gestured towards the brick plated fireplace, where the flames he had carefully cultivated that morning were still strongly burning.

"I never knew you were such a romantic." Spencer teased, kissing him on the lips. "Ok, in front of the fireplace then."

"Ok?"

"Yeah."

They kissed and groped their way over to said fireplace, managing to just skirt around the black lounge chair sitting on the angle that both attracted the warmth of the flames, but also faced the plasma television in the far right corner of the room, without falling over it.

May have to recover that one… stains…Morgan thought momentarily.

Spencer sank down to his knees on the plush white rug (previous tiger mat thrown out before of a very pleased Reid two weeks before) and unzipped his lover’s pants, pulling them down to his ankles.

The young man sighed. "Derek, have I ever told you how damned perfect you are?"

"Wait." Morgan said.

"What?" Spencer kissed the lengthening organ before him.

The older man groaned, stepping out of his trousers and boxers completely. He cupped his lover’s face in his hands, trailing his thumb along his jaw.

"Let me make love to you."

There was no anxiety or apprehension in the beloved face, only trust and love.

"Oh god, Morgan yes. Please."

"Let me just…I’ll get the…"

"Hurry."

Derek chucked his shirt over his head. It sailed across the room, landing somewhere in the east corner. Rushing through the back of the house for the bathroom, he couldn’t help but laugh a little at his own impatience. He’d always had a high sex drive. With his beautiful new male lover, it went into overdrive. It seemed he couldn’t get enough of Spencer, touching, tasting, kissing, fucking, sucking, biting, licking. He had to have him as often as possible. The worst was at work. Neither were comfortable enough to tell the others that they were an item yet. He had been in the job long enough to separate his work from his home life. Even so, there were times, (particularly when Hotch was droning on about the minute aspects of some case to the team), that his mind started to… wander. Oftentimes, it took the direction along the lines of taking his lover into the toilets and giving him the kind of blowjob that would seriously render that incredible brain somewhat incommunicable for the next few hours. Of course, Spencer would never submit to that at work. There were times that the fantasy was so powerful, he had to go to the bathroom himself to take care of himself.

Morgan tore open the bathroom cabinet, chucking Valium and aspirin bottles, shaving cream, a hair comb containing a few strands of Spencer’s hair, and a packet of condoms to the floor, as he searched for the elusive lube.

_No more condoms, thank you Lord._

Both had been cleared of any STDS two weeks before. The only time they’d not used them was one time while drunk. It was also the first time they’d ever been intimate. Derek had sank to his knees and given his lover a very frantic, good blowjob. Morgan trusted Reid. He was more concerned about himself. Sure, he was always careful.

But for the times, in his youth with Carl Bufold.

Shame kept him from ever getting checked. Until Spencer, that was. The kid left him utterly vulnerable. He wanted that vulnerability, in fact craved it. He longed to give everything of himself, his heart, his soul, his body, his fractured psyche to the brilliant young doctor.

After getting into the car from the doctor’s surgery, Morgan had driven down a remote back road, through miles and miles of wooded area.

He’d parked the car, pulled Spencer into the back seat, and offered what he’d been too ashamed to offer any man after Carl Buford had taken it from him, convincing him that it was right, the next step in their relationship.

Derek had expected it to hurt. Every time with Buford, it had hurt. But Buford had told him that he was beautiful and smart and talented and that it was going to be ok. Derek had simply closed his eyes and convinced himself that this was true.

Spencer had taken his time, kissing and stroking him until he felt like he was bursting for him.

That first time had been a little awkward but still sweet, gentle. Derek had surprised himself when he felt wetness on his cheeks. Spencer had been concerned, had offered to stop.

"No, it’s the opposite, babe. It’s… it’s beyond good. I love you so much. So much."

They’d since incorporated his new versatility into their lovemaking.

Top. Bottom. Neither mattered to him, not any more. Both offered their own delights.

Finally locating the lube, he sprinted back down the hall into the lounge room to a sight that had him stop dead in his tracks. Spencer, naked on the plush rug, rolling over onto his hands and knees. His groin jolted with anticipation.

"Oh, Spence. You’ll be the death of me."

"Well, technically that could be possible. Overexertion in sexual intercourse caused 32 deaths last year."

"32 huh?" Derek had crossed the room and now knelt behind him. He ran a hand over the quivering body. "Where do you get those statistics?"

He kissed down the line of spinal chord presented before him.

"Oh ah… some research journal."

Morgan sucked hungrily on the flesh covering his left hip, uncapping the lube and swirling his fingers inside.

_Research journal indeed._

Spencer groaned as he gently prodded the entrance. Derek kissed back up his back, slipping the finger inside.

"Derek…" His lover whispered, then groaned as a second finger was slipped inside, scizzoring with the first. Spencer turned his head back to face him. His pupils were dilated, cheeks flushed.

_Damn, you’re beautiful. How did I get to be so lucky?_

Morgan gratefully took the lips into an open-mouthed kiss. He slipped the third finger into the body. Spencer started to rock back, moaning into his mouth.

"Please…" Spencer said, as they released. Morgan looked at the panting, wide-eyed face and was almost undone.

_Concentrate…_

He withdrew his fingers and pulled back to an upright position on his knees, concentrating on entering the tight heat as slowly as possible. His lover put his head down, silently panting.

"You ok, Spence?" He asked.

"Don’t… stop." His voice sounded strained.

Morgan leant over the lean back, sprinkling kisses along his shoulders and hair. Finally, buried to the hilt, he ceased movement and reached around to stroke his lover’s wilting erection to fullness again, his mouth sucking hard on the long neck.

"Derek…"

Taking it as a cue to move, the older man started to lightly thrust, moving faster as Spencer rocked back to his movements. The couple formed a rhythm together, groaning and sighing. Morgan dug his nails into the thin hips before him, biting hard into his shoulder.

"Derek! Oh so fucking good…"

Morgan grinned, deliberately slamming into his lover in the sweet spot that he knew got him every time.

"Derek!" Spencer yelled as he exploded into his lover’s stroking hand. Derek gathered up his lover’s release into his hand and slowly licked it clean gratefully swallowing the familiar tang, then leant forward for a kiss. His lover obliged, opening his lips.

"I love you, Spence." He said, after they released.

The smile back said all he needed to know.

Morgan kissed the back of his neck, thrusting now without abandon. He pulled back to his knees, gripping the hips with both hands feeling all powerful, all masculine.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Spencer"

He felt his whole body shake with release, as his hot seed shot out of him into his lover’s tight insides.

It took him a few seconds to come down off the high.

"Damn…" Derek slowly pulled out. Spencer turned his body around to face him and kissed him on the lips.

"I don’t think I could have put it better."

The young man stood up and started to collect his clothes. Coming into the room, Derek hadn’t noticed them in a neat pile by the side of the fireplace.

"I’m going to take a shower. Do you want to join me?"

Morgan considered it. Then realised that his friend would be back in any minute.

"You go." He found his trousers and boxers, frowning at the come on his penis and pubic hair as he pulled them to his knees. Waddling to the kitchen, he grabbed some paper towels, wet them with the tap and wiped himself off.

Good enough. He threw them in the bin and pulled up his boxers and jeans, doing up the zip.

Jack knocked on the door as he located his shirt, pulling it over his head.

"Smells good." He said, upon opening the door.

"Meatlovers, garlic bread, Pepsi and margherita for myself. I hate any of that other crap." The large man brought the pizza boxes and bottle to the lounge room and placed it on the coffee table before the black lounge chair. Derek suddenly realised he hadn’t wiped down the white rug. He also wondered if the room still smelt of sex.

"Where’s Spencer?" Jack asked, settling down on the couch and opening the first pizza box.

"Shower."

His friend rolled his eyes. "Can you at least wait until I’m gone more than half an hour?"

Derek laughed a little, collapsed next to him and took a slice out of the pizza box. This was a man who, after being told that Derek now had a male lover, didn’t believe him. Of course, Derek had had flings in the past with other men, casual hook ups. But a relationship?

He’d taken the first plane out from Chicago and was fortuitous enough to arrive on the front doorstep a night in which Derek and Spencer weren’t working. They had been watching the Twilight Zone on television, exhausted after a marathon session of sex. Derek thanked the gods he hadn’t arrived while that was going on.  
Jack told his friend the next morning that within minutes of meeting Spencer, he knew without a doubt that this was, indeed, real.

"The kid’s a bit of a kook, but I like him. Plus, he adores you." Jack had said.

The two men ate in silence a few minutes.

Spencer stepped into the room, his hair wet from the shower, looking perfectly adorable, in Derek’s eyes. He patted the seat next to him.

"What do you think of your new shower?"

"Technically, it’s still yours. And I have used it for months." He reached out and took a slice of pizza from the box.

"Me casa. Su casa." He suddenly noticed the very obvious hicky on Reid’s neck. The kid would probably get commented on it next time in the office.

_By who? The only person who would comment on it in the past would have been you._

"So that’s everything? I thought I’d drive back, put the keys in the letterbox. And then…" Spencer let out a deep breath.

"If you like, after lunch, I’ll help lug some of the heavier boxes upstairs." Jack offered.

"Thanks." Morgan bit once more into his pizza.

***

Spencer turned onto the freeway as ‘Crazy’ by Gnarls Barkley came on the radio. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and started to sing along. He understood on an academic level why he liked the song. After all, with his mother’s mental illness and his own fears of inherited susceptibility, it was somewhat cleansing to sing his tortured emotions in regards to the subject out loud, in the form of boppy music.

The next song was the tortured James Taylor classic "Fire and Rain", in his opinion one of the saddest songs in existence. Still, he happily sang along, totally off key and not caring. Nothing was going to bring him down off his high that day. Damn, he felt more vibrant, more alive than any of the times he was on the junk.

  
Derek Morgan.

The handsome, cool, former ladies man wanted him, loved him. He could probably come up with a convincing statistic on the possibility of that happening and still wouldn’t believe it.

Certainly, he had been attracted to Derek upon meeting him, who wouldn’t be? This increased when he became aware that the other man also counted himself as bisexual. However, it quickly became diluted with the knowledge that the hot brother simply wasn’t attracted to him. The constant teasing didn’t help matters, either. Derek later admitted that he teased him precisely because he was immensely attracted and was frustrated that Spencer wasn’t responding.

  
Silly, silly man, Spencer shook his head and signalled to turn off the freeway.

Of course, there were a few minor kinks to iron out in regards to their relationship. The main being how to bring it up at work. Though he was certain the others in the immediate team weren’t prejudiced, he was still wary of actually coming out as being with another man. Both were well aware of the obstacles an that openly bisexual man in a relationship with another man faced, particularly in the macho culture of the FBI. They had, after all, seen the worst results of homophobia while on the job. Morgan had been particularly worried about how to bring it up to Garcia, and how it would affect their flirty intimacy.

Whatever the outcome, Reid felt safe in the fact of their love.

Strange thought, that he, dorky geeky Spencer Reid could be in a long term, stable, loving relationship with a hot stud who gave him the best sex he’d ever had. Not that he had much to compare it to. The last, and only other man he’d had intercourse with had been another boy from college. Both had been drunk. It had hurt like hell and neither of them finished. Spencer had decided at the time that particular brand of sex wasn’t for him. He kept to that promise for years.

Until Derek Morgan.

With Derek, it was so damned good, he sometimes felt like his entire body would explode.

And when he made love to Derek, that he would allow Spencer that most intimate of access. His immense brain couldn’t come up with adequate words to describe the beauty, the wonder, the awe of it.

Deep in thought, he realised that he’d instinctively driven to his street. He pulled into the familiar back car park to his apartment block and into his usual car space.

_Last time in my tiny little box of an apartment on the ground floor, next to the continually arguing couple._

The thought filled him with relief. He crossed the car park, suddenly noticing the man knocking on his door.

"Hello?"

If he wasn’t mistaken, it was-?

The man turned, usually stern face lighting up. Spencer noted that he was wearing running gear.

"I was in the neighbourhood, visiting relatives for the weekend. thought I'd drop in and say hello,” Hotch said. “You literally live just around the corner from my Aunt.”

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

Hotch wasn’t quite prepared for the reality of seeing his brother after so many months. Certainly, he’d gone over and over the meeting in his mind, weighing the many aspects of what he’d say, how the young man could react, the potential hurt and angst evoked. What he hadn’t figured into all his calculations was the reality of the constant rift between them, and the shattered effect it had on him. There had been... words. When they had last seen each other. A week earlier, his Aunty Clare had contacted Hotch, informed him thath is brother was staying with her. She was attempting to heal the rift, he could tell.

He simply wasn't sure if it could be healed. 

After a morning of tense conversations about the weather, he realised that he had to get out of the house. Recalling that Spencer Reid lived nearby, he thought he'd go visit him.

He knocked on the front door of Spencer’s apartment, instinctively turning to face the car park. The young doctor walked towards him, sunlight highlighting his dark blond hair, mouth crinkled in a slight, dreamy smile, luminescent dark eyes conveying the depth of his intelligence.

"Hotch! What a pleasure!" An odd expression came over his face. "I’ve moved out. I just came back to drop off the keys."

"Serendipity that we both arrived here at this moment then, don’t you think?"

A slight quirky smile uplifted the full lips. "Indeed. Serendipity."

Both were silent a long, awkward moment. Hotch wondered if it was a good idea, after all, visiting one of his workmates.

"I would offer you coffee, otherwise." Spencer said, lamely. "Um… how about we go to a café? There’s a great place up the road. Walking distance."

"Sure."

"This way."

They silently crossed the letterboxes fronting the apartments and turned left past a front garden littered with children’s toys. Spencer pulled out his mobile.

"Do you mind?"

"No, not at all."

The young man pressed a few buttons, and held it to his ear.

"Hey, it’s me."

He paused a long time, a bemused expression crossing his face.

"Tell him alphabetical order by author. Look, I won’t be back for a bit. I’ve run into Hotch. We’re getting a coffee." He paused again, as the person at the other end of the line answered. "You sure? Ok, see you soon" He hung up the phone."Sorry about that."

"That’s fine." _Whoever it was obviously knows me. He referred to me by name._

They reached the end of the street. A small row of shops sat opposite the perpendicular two-lane road. Both men crossed over. Two empty outdoor tables with red umbrellas announced the Red Violin café. A bell tinkled as they stepped in. Spencer instantly moved towards the cosy looking fireplace with cushioned chairs before it, in the left corner and sat down. Hotch followed.

***

Morgan picked up the small paperback, frowning.

"Now this, I don’t understand."

Jack seated opposite, and surrounded by piles and piles of books, picked up three in his hands

"What?"

Derek turned the novel over so the cover faced his friend. "Carrie? The brainiac owns Carrie? Carrie amongst-" He started to pick up books at random "A Brief History of Time, On the Road, a full collection of Shakespeare’s works."

"What’s wrong with Carrie? Carrie’s a great novel," Jack sounded defensive.

Morgan laughed, shaking his head.

"I’ve gotta say, Derek, if anything this proves that you are an elitist snob when it comes to novels and the kid isn’t." To prove his point, he searched through the box to his left and pulled out a copy of "Watership Downs."

"Now that- that there is a good novel."

Jack smiled. "How the hell does the kid want us to sort this? Does he have a system?"

As if on cue, Derek’s mobile burst to life. Recognising Spencer's name, he flicked the screen open. 

"Hey, it’s me," Spencer's voice came through the mobile, before he'd had the chance to say anything.

"Hey babe, Jack’s asking if you have any system as to how to sort all your books. All I can think of is picking up that copy of the Kama Sutra you own and trying a few new positions off it." He grinned at his friend, who rolled his eyes.

"Tell him alphabetical order by author. Look, I won’t be back for a bit. I’ve run into Hotch. We’re getting a coffee."

Derek paused. Hotch? On the day he was moving in?

"Sure, ok."

Jack caught the edge to his voice and looked up, puzzled.

"You sure?"

"Ok, babe."

"Ok, see you soon." Spencer hung up.

Derek flicked his phone shut.

"What is it?"

"He’s… he says he’s ran into Hotch. They’re having a coffee together."

"Oh…"

Both were silent a few moments, sorting through the books.

"I’m not his keeper." Derek forced a smile. "He can do whatever he wants."

"I understand you feeling a bit… it is, after all, the day he’s moving in."

The wattage of Derek’s smile was in direct proportion to the hurt he was feeling.

"It’s fine."

***

"Hey there, hon. Different hunk today, huh?" The name tag on the waitress uniform read ‘Rosie’. A bright pink graced the young man’s cheeks. "What will it be?"

"Just a long black today, Rosie."

"Likewise for me."

"You got it." The woman walked away, popping her notepad and pen into her breast pocket.

"So…" Aaron eased back on the chair smiling. "Where are you moving to?"

"East side. It’s just… it’s a bigger place."

The older man knew instantly that Spencer was being evasive. He strongly suspected that the mystery of the other person on the phone had a lot to do with it.

"Good for you," he said.

Spencer scooted closer to the fire and took his gloves off, warming his hands on it.

"It is pretty cold today, isn't it?" He took off his own gloves and scooted next to the young man, feeling the warmth of the flames caress and sooth his bare skin.

“So where exactly does your Aunt Clare live?”

“Mayfair Street.”

The young man pulled back.

“That _is_ close.”

“I was just going for a jog. I figured we don't tend to socialise much, outside work hours. I thought it would be a nice opportunity.”

“So you're staying with your aunt a while?”

Hotch's smile didn't reach his eyes. _Brotherly duties, that was all._

“Just a few days.”

"Here we are. Two long black coffees." Rosie placed the mugs on the table between them and winked at Hotch. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Will do."

Both watched her move away.

“I've been at Aunt Clare's a few times and never actually been here.”

“It's the best coffee you'll ever have.”

“Oh yes?” Hotch asked, feeling incredulous. He took a sip, feeling the hazel bitterness touch his mouth. “Ooh very nice.”

Spencer laughed.

***

They found a park a few blocks up. Red and orange autumn leaves discoloured the gravelled ground. One fell off the interlaced branches of trees on either side of the path on which they walked to be trapped in Spencer’s hair. Hotch resisted the odd urge to reach across and remove it. Away from work, Spencer was surprisingly easy to talk to. Hotch wondered why he hadn't attempted to socialize with his workmates more often.

At the same time, he was aware that he was deliberately dawdling, to avoid going back to his house, facing his brother, once more.  
They reached a wooden park bench. Both sat down, silent a moment.

"So, who are you avoiding?”

Hotch couldn't help but smile, a little. Of course, nothing would get past Spencer. He was, after, very good at his job.

“My brother and I had a falling out, last time I saw him. He wanted me to lend him some money for a business transaction. I thought it was a con, and told him as such. Some pretty angry words were spoken. Well, the deal fell through. I guess he still blames me. Although I still think it was a scam.”

“I take it your aunt is trying to be the go-between?”

“Something like that,” Hotch said, smiling wryly.

***

Morgan was frying up some stir-fry on the kitchen-stove top, when he heard the key turn in the door. The door closed and shuffling sounds indicated Spencer taking off coat and gloves. Footsteps sounded across the lounge room, continuing to the kitchen.

"Hey there."

He didn’t turn to face his lover, simply opened the cupboard above the stove and pulled out the tabasco and soy sauces.

An arm reached around his waist, gentle mouth on his neck. "Smells great!"

"So?" Derek popped open the tabasco bottle and liberally poured it over the sizzling vegetables.

Spencer stepped back, leant against the kitchen counter.

“What did Hotch want?”

“He was in the neighbourhood. He thought we could catch up, grab a coffee.”

"Couldn’t you have told him that you were busy?" He closed the lid on the tabasco sauce and opened the soy, pouring it into the pan.

Spencer paused. "I’m sorry, Derek. I know how important this day is."

"Do you?" He put the containers on the counter beside the stove and turned down the heat. "We finished categorising your books in the bookcase. Alphabetical order." 

Spencer said nothing.

"You just missed John. He left twenty minutes ago."

"Tell him thank you."

"Sure."

"Derek, I’m sorry."

This isn’t how today was supposed to go! Derek thought. Right now we should be christening the house, not having this absurd argument. Damn you, Hotch!

"So what did you and Hotch do?"

"We went to a café and talked. Then we walked through a park, talked some more."

"About?" He stirred the stir-fry some more.

"Well, there's some... personal stuff, going on with him."

"Right." He turned off the power and started to walk out of the room.

"Derek…" Spencer said, following him.

The older man turned back to him. "So the day you move in with me you take off for over an hour to be with a colleague? A man who, I must add, clearly wants to _fuck_ you. I hope you’re not emotionally immature enough to realise I may be a little upset about this?"

"What are you talking about?" A rather wounded expression crossed his face. "Hotch would never. He's not even-"

"Of course he would. I've seen the way he looks at you."

"Well, he can try as much as he likes. I don’t want Hotch!" Anger now crept into his voice.

"Really? Could have fooled me."

"Fuck you, Derek! How can you say that? I’ve just moved in with you. I _love_ you. I refuse to be any more a part of your petty jealousy. Talk to me when you want the grown ups to come to the table."

He stormed out of the room.

***

Spencer sat on the black couch, long legs curled under him. On the plasma television, David Attenborough was discussing the call of the mynah bird. Derek walked in and collapsed beside him. After the argument, he’d taken a walk around the block, then taken a long shower. His head felt somewhat cleared of its former anxiety and anger. Now, he just wanted to make up, feeling mildly aroused.

He put his arm around his lover and started to kiss his neck.

"Don’t," the other man pulled away.

"I’m sorry, Spence. You’re right. I was completely out of order, today."

Spencer’s eyes looked very large in his face. "I’m sorry too. I should have told him I’d see him another day."

Derek leant forward, kissed his mouth. "Great first day, huh?"

Spencer flicked open the button of his shirt. "Let’s make it spectacular."

***

For a long moment, the only noises in the bedroom were the slap of skin on skin, the occasional moan or whimper, then Spencer began to talk.

"Oh, oh, Derek! Derek!"

Derek looked down, revelling in his lover’s flushed, aroused face.

"That’s it, pretty boy," he said. "That’s it. That’s it."

He was almost, he was almost…

And then it happened. The argument came back to him, the feeling of loss, of anger.

Derek was brought back by the sudden splatter on his stroking hand.

Spencer grinned, pulled him in for a kiss.

_Just have to… just have to finish…_

Everything was right, the feel of his lover around him, the flesh under his hands.

"Come for me Derek."

Only, that was the problem. It wasn’t happening for him. In frustration, he tried a different angle. Spencer gasped. No, it wasn’t… all the angst over that damned fight had made him unable to complete.

A while later, Spencer had fallen silent, was simply lying still beneath him, accepting the thrusts within his body.

"Are you ok?" Morgan nuzzled his hair.

"Mmm… are you going for a personal record, Derek?"

Derek laughed a little.

"Do you want me to…?" Spencer offered.

"Almost… almost…" He tried another angle.

This was better. Now he could… oh this was working. This was…

"Spencer!" He groaned in relief as orgasm overtook his body. Finally sated, he pulled out of his lover’s body. Spencer curled up against him, grabbing his hand.

"Personal record, babe? That doesn’t even come close."

"We’ll have to break it," his young lover said.

Forget about today, he thought to himself. Tomorrow will be better. When Spence wakes tomorrow morning, I’ll ask him to fuck me. And he can go for as long as he wants.

He lifted the hand in his and kissed it.

"Love you so much, babe. I’m so glad you’re here with me."

"Me too." Spencer said, voice husky with sleep.

Tbc…


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who are reading :)
> 
> Warning that this chapter references the canon of Morgan's past molestation and deals with a suspect who is a child rapist, hence is rather dark.

"Pretty boy," Derek groaned. "Wait!"

Spencer took his mouth away from Derek’s erect and weeping organ and looked up, bearing a grin that, until recently, Derek never thought he'd see on Spencer Reid's face.

"Problem, Derek?"

Derek scooted up and fumbled around the nightstand for the lube, handing it to his lover.

A concerned expression crossed his partner's diminutive features.

"You sure?"

Derek replied by rolling onto his stomach.

"I love you." Spencer said, once he’d settled his weight on Derek’s back. He could feel his breath coast against his ear.

A long finger gently rubbed at his opening, before slipping inside. Derek sighed, pushed back, rocking a little to the movement. It still amazed him that he could crave this. His own macho image of himself aside, that he could give fully of himself after Carl Bufold was nothing short of miraculous. More fingers joined the first. Of course. He gasped, jolted back. Spencer’s longer fingers meant he could reach-

"Yes, do it. Now, pretty boy. Now!"

He braced himself for the discomfort of the intrusion within him. It never hurt, his lover was too careful for that. Derek loved the sounds that Spencer made, the little sighs and moans.

"You ok?" He said, once fully inside.

"Do it, pretty boy. I want you so much…"

Spencer groaned, starting to thrust, slowly at first, then building up speed. Derek rocked back to the motions.

So good, Derek thought. Who’d have thought? There was something so erotic about losing control of himself in this way, in allowing his lover to claim him, own him entirely.

"Oh Derek."

In all of his previous thoughts and fantasies about making love to Spencer, he had never pictured him to be loud. He’d imagined him to sigh and give little breathy whimpers. From the first time they were intimate, the kid certainly proved him wrong. He talked, he groaned, he shouted.

"Fuck, so good."

Derek particularly loved it when he swore.

The cordless, seated on the bedside table, suddenly sprang to life.

"Go away." Derek mumbled. Spencer giggled, not stopping his movements.

The phone stopped.

_Good._

"Oh, so good."

Spencer sucked his ear, then bit down hard.

"Come for me, pretty boy." He groaned.

Spencer groaned in response. It was that response that elevated Morgan to the highest of pleasures. He cried out, feeling himself spasm in his lover’s stroking hand. Jolting inside himself signalled Spencer letting go.

The young man collapsed on his back, kissing between his shoulder blades. Both men panted a long moment, returning to their senses.

"Oh Derek…" He gently pulled out.

Derek rolled over and kissed his younger lover, slowly, lovingly moving his tongue in his mouth.

"I bet it was Hotch," Reid said after they released, before leaning forward to kiss Morgan’s neck.

"I don’t want to go in today. We still have to finish unpacking. And eat the stir-fry from then night before."

"You can eat your half."

"You mean you-?"

Spencer shrugged. "You were out on your walk. I was hungry."

Morgan pulled back and frowned, then picked up his pillow and started to bash his lover about the head with it. Spencer laughed, picked up his own pillow and returned the beating, going for every body part that he could. Derek dropped the tissue and started to tickle his lover’s ribs.

"Stop! Stop!" Spencer twisted and turned but couldn’t escape his lover’s fingers. "Stop!" He screamed, laughing.

"Give in?" Derek laughed.

"You’re a sadist. Ok, ok I give in."

"Good." He pulled back.

Spencer picked up the pillow and gave him once last whack across the face with it.

"Shower?"

Derek sighed, reached over to pick up the phone. "Give me a second. It probably was Hotch, you know."

***

As usual, the case involved the worst of the violence and sadism that humanity inflict on each other. This case involved the murder of two brothers, eleven and thirteen respectively. Both had been kept for three days, repeatedly raped and tortured and then stabbed to death. Their covered bodies had been found by the side of the freeway leading out of the small town of Charlottsville, south-west of Quantico.

"So now you’re saying two murderers?" Detective Harry Duke, a short, stocky man with a shock of red hair, folded his meaty arms.

"The ah manner of how the bodies were found." Reid took a sip of coffee, grimaced a little from the taste and continued. "Being dumped in the open by a busy freeway is indicative of a perpetrator with no remorse. But they were also both covered by a blanket. A perpetrator will often cover a body when they feel guilt over the crime, ‘covering the bodies as related to ‘covering their own culpability’. This discrepancy would not come from one person."

"Does he always talk like this?" Detective Duke asked JJ, pinning up mugshots of various operating paedophiles on the board behind them. She turned and smiled.

Spencer shrugged. He talked the way he talked. He couldn’t exactly change it.

His phone buzzed. Flicking it open, he smiled a little to himself. A message from Derek.

_This morn, I found Twister in my motel room. Tonight, you just bring that gorgeous body._

Spencer amused himself momentarily with the thought of him and Derek bent over each other in all manner of awkward positions on the Twister board, then leant over the photos once more, frowning.

***

"You guys must be pretty damned stupid." Bruce Dallas was handsome in an All-American blond, big jawed kind of way. "Why would I mess up my parole?"

Derek said nothing, simply stood further back from Rossi, folding his arms. Bruce’s eyes flicked from Rossi, seated before him, to Derek standing in the left corner, back to Rossi again.

"Look, I don’t know anything about those dead boys, ok?"

Neither agents spoke.

"What do you want me to say?"

Both agents continued to remain silent.

"Ok, now what I’m saying is if something happened to those boys, then whoever did it probably didn’t mean to _kill_ them."

Derek's face remained expressionless.

Got him, he thought.

"I understand that sometimes things get out of control, especially when you’re with a person that’s not acting rationally," Rossi said. "Sometimes, you just want to have a good time. No harm done, right? But then the person you’re with starts going too far and you don’t know what to do to stop them."

Bruce swallowed.

"We know you didn’t mean for them to die, Bruce. You were going to let them live but your partner lost control."

In that instant, the door leading into the interrogation room opened and JJ stepped in and leant in to whisper to Derek.

"Chris Jones. Shared a cell with Bruce. In for raping and beating a sixteen year old boy. He was paroled six months before Bruce."

Derek nodded. JJ exited the room.

"Tell me about Chris Jones," Derek moved out of the shadows. "You shared a cell with him."

"What to say? We shared a cell."

"Must have had a lot to talk about. Similar interests. Namely, young boys."

Something flashed in the blue eyes then, his mouth uplifted into a smirk.

"I’d love to see one of you in prison, one day. Wouldn’t last a minute."

"Paedophiles aren’t well regarded in prison, are they?" Rossi said. "You and Chris must have been close, looked out for each other."

"Especially you," he indicated Morgan. " _Pretty_ man. You’d look prettier on your knees."

Derek smirked but didn’t reply.

"How close were you and Chris?" Rossi asked.

"Sure, we looked after each other," he shrugged. "The others…they don’t understand."

"Understand what?"

"People call me rapist. It’s not true. I never hurt any of those boys."

Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I… I made love to them. And I always told them what I was going to do. I gave them the chance to say no, if they wanted."

Morgan clenched the sides of the desk, to cease from leaping over and grabbing this sick bastard around the throat.

"Charlie and Bobby?" Rossi referred to the two murdered boys by name.

The handsome man closed his eyes. "I didn’t hurt them. I was gentle. I even told them ‘I’m going to make love to you, now. If it hurts, it’s only because it always does the first time.’"

Derek felt the entire room suddenly fall away from himself, his stomach clamping painfully.

_‘I’m going to make love to you, now.’ His mentor’s face uncomfortably close, hands feeling good, good but wrong, but terrible at the same time. ‘If it hurts, it’s only because it always does the first time.’_

"Excuse me." He strode out of the room and tore the door open, rushing across the office to the male toilets. He got there just in time to be sick in one of the bowls.

Damn, he shakily pressed the flush button, grabbing some toilet paper and wiping his mouth clean. It had been a long time since he’d had a flashback so vivid.  
He staggered out of the stall and leant against the middle porcelain sink.

_Control, Derek, control._

The door opened. He straightened up. It would be Hotch, he was sure.

_No, I can’t... please leave._

Spencer stepped into the room, his entire face was lit up with concern.

"Derek?"

Before he knew what he was doing, he was pulling the young man into his arms, kissing him fiercely, his arms wrapped around him so tightly that he was surely paining him.

"Derek," Spencer said once they’d broken mouths, reaching up and put his long fingers on his cheek. "You’re shaking. What’s wrong? What happened?"

Morgan replied by burying his face in the young man’s neck.

Don’t cry, don’t you cry, he told himself. Just calm down.

"Oh please…" He could hear the distress in his lover’s voice. "Tell me what’s wrong. Please."

Morgan pulled back and kissed him harshly once more.

The door started to open. Both sprang back, creating a good few feet of space between them.

"Everything ok?" Hotch looked to Morgan, clearly concerned. His eyes flicked briefly to Spencer.

"Nothing I can’t handle." Morgan replied, glad that he had at least stopped trembling.

***

Derek wrapped his arms around himself as he stepped into the motel room, Spencer following. He still felt rather numb, which was rather typical post flashback.

"What do you want me to do?" Spencer asked. "Do you want anything, anything at all, coffee? Something stronger?"

Morgan laughed a little. "I don’t think the strongest alcohol will help me at the moment."

They’d solved the case. Bruce Dallas had rolled over on Chris Jones. He should have felt his usual elation. Damn Carl Buford for taking even that away from him.

He moved to the edge of the bed and sat down. Spencer sat next to him and took his hand.

"Just…" He laughed a little. "Flashback. It happens sometimes."

"I’m so sorry."

"You didn’t do anything!"

"I just… feel so helpless. You’re in pain and I can’t do anything…"

"Hey," Morgan kissed the side of his face. "You’re here. That’s all that matters."

"I’m not going anywhere," he focused his gaze directly onto his lover.

"So if Hotch comes charging in here right now-"

Spencer rolled his eyes, went to pull away.

"I’m joking, Spencer," he pulled him back, wrapping his arm around his waist.

"What do I need to do to convince you that I’m not interested in Hotch!"

"I told you, I was joking."

"But there’s some truth behind it, isn’t there? Otherwise you wouldn’t have brought it up." He knocked the hand away and stood up.

"Aw, come on Spencer," Morgan really wasn’t in the mood for this. Not tonight.

"Why don’t you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you!"

"That’s why you bring up Hotch every five seconds."

"Now you’re exaggerating. This is the first time I’ve brought him up all day. And you did spend an hour with him the day you were meant to be moving in with me."

"I told you, we talked!"

"And I believe you, Spence."

"Then why do you insist on bringing him up?"

"Look, kid-"

"Kid?! Damn you, Derek. How dare you-"

"Spencer, the truth is I have seen more of life than you. I think I can recognise someone trying to manipulate a situation."

"And what about me? What am I, a toy in all this? Don’t I have a say?"

"Of course you do. But Hotch is older. He’s a damned better profiler than the two of us combined. I just find it odd, him turning up, the day you moved out."

Spencer stared at him a long time, seeming to gather his thoughts.

"I’m starting to think that relationship was a bad idea from the beginning. If you can’t even trust me…"

"Fine!" Derek was acting purely on emotion, now, too strung out from the horrors of what he had to deal with during the day to think rationally. "Go to Hotch then."

"This isn’t about me leaving you," Spencer’s voice hitched. As he continued to speak his eyes became unnaturally bright. "This is about you leaving me. You don’t think I’m good enough! You’re just using Hotch as an excuse!"

"Oh that’s crap."

"Geeky, awkward, socially inept Reid with his insane mother. I was never going to live up to the standards of Derek Morgan. What was I thinking? I need to… I just have to go."

He turned and started walking towards the door.

"No, don’t leave me!" Morgan jumped out of the bed and rushed after him. "You’re the one using Hotch as an excuse! You’re the one who doesn’t think I’m good enough!"

Reid reached the door and turned to face him, eyes blazing.

"I gave you everything of myself! Everything!" Derek had completely lost control. "I was _raped_ and I let you make love to me, yearned for it. Because I love you!"

"Then why can’t you _trust_ me?"

"Because I can’t _trust_ anyone!"

The declaration hung in the air between them a moment.

Derek put his fingers to his face, surprised to find wetness there.

"Please, please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Tell me what to do. I don’t think you’re not good enough. I love your social awkwardness and the fact that you can talk about the details of a spaceship on a Star Trek episode. As for your mother, she’s an incredible woman."

"I don’t want to leave,” tears pooled at the corners of Spencer's dark eyes.

"Then don’t. I’m sorry I’m so messed up. You can do whatever you want, yell some more, berate me. Just don’t leave."

Spencer stepped back into the room, crossing back to sit on the edge of the bed. Morgan closed his eyes and breathed out the carbon dioxide he had not even realised he'd been subconsciously holding.

"Have you ever… seen anyone about…?" Spencer asked.

Derek shook his head. Manly macho man Derek Morgan? Of course not! He could deal with anything thrown in his path.

He moved to sit next to his lover.

"I buried it for so long. It just became a part of me. I thought I was ok. Every day, I convinced myself that I was completely fine."

Spencer reached across and took his hand.

"It just makes me feel so tired," Derek admitted. He lifted the hand and kissed it.

"You’re incredible, you know that?" Spencer cupped his face in his hands. "You got out. Beyond that, to be the man that you are now. The strength that must have taken is… beyond anything I can even imagine."

"I thought confronting Carl Buford, seeing justice done. That would end it," Morgan admitted. "Ridiculous thought, really."

Spencer let go of his face, took a deep breath, as though steeling himself.

"Derek," he paused. "Do you think there may be a… parallel between Carl Buford and your feelings about my relationship with Hotch?" He looked anxious, as though expecting another argument.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Hotch’s my superior. And you think he’s interested."

Derek considered this. Damn, he’d never made that connection before. It did make some sort of crazy sense.

"Even if Hotch did… try something… and I seriously doubt that he would… then I would reject him. In a nice way, I hope,” he smiled. "I guess it depended on how he did it. But I would be in control."

"Poor boy, so scared of being alone, aren’t you?" He asked.

Spencer blinked, clearly unsure of this turn of the conversation.

"So if you weren’t being intimate with me, who would be next? Rossi?" He wasn’t even sure why he said it. All he knew was that as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he instantly regretted them.

_Damn it, Morgan! What the hell is wrong with you?_

Spencer’s mouth opened in surprise, which swiftly changed to clear hurt. He didn’t say a word, simply stood up and walked back towards the door.

"Spencer, I don’t know why I…there’s something wrong with me…"

"You’re right!" The younger man turned to face him. "There really is. I can’t… I can’t do this."

"Please, don’t leave." Derek rushed in front of him, blocking the door.

"Let me out, Morgan."

"I don’t know why I said it. I’m just… I’m an idiot, a moron."

"Let me out of the room!"

"I’m messed up, I told you. I can’t trust anyone. I say and do stupid things."

Spencer took a step forward. Morgan stepped back until he was leaning against the handle.

"Just… hear me out, please…"

"What? You’re going to hold me prisoner now?"

"I just want to talk to you."

"We already talked! We had an opportunity to sort all this out and you used it to imply that I was some sort of _slut_ who sleeps around with my colleagues! I have never been more _insulted_ my entire life. And believe me, that’s saying something."

"It’s been a long, crazy day. I think both our tempers are short. Both of us have said things we’ve regretted. Why don’t we sleep on it."

The young man’s feral expression and blazing eyes made clear that he had no desire whatsoever to follow Derek’s wishes.

"Come on, pretty boy. I’m sorry." He grabbed Spencer by the back of the neck and pulled him forward. "I’m sorry." He kissed him on the neck.

"No."

"I’m sorry." Another kiss on his adam’s apple.

"Derek, stop."

Derek grabbed him around the waist, pulling their bodies together. "Come on pretty boy, let’s just-"

With a strength he didn’t know the younger man had, he pushed him back against the door, disentangling himself. "So what, you’re gonna _rape_ me now?"

Derek stilled. "What? No, Spencer. That’s-"

"Please, let me out of the room," he sounded tired.

In a daze, Derek stepped away from the door.

Spencer opened it and stormed out into the hall, slamming it behind himself.

Tbc…


End file.
